


Silver-Haired Memories

by RanaFlower



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RanaFlower/pseuds/RanaFlower
Summary: This is less a proper fanfic and more a loose collection of drabbles that I felt like finishing and put into a vaguely sequential order.  I don't think it's anything special but if I bullied a particular other fic writer far better than me into posting *her* work, it feels only fair I put mine up too.  Hopefully someone gets some enjoyment out of my self-indulgent, rambling shippy nonsense.
Relationships: Y'shtola Rhul/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> This fic features my warrior of light, N'rhuna Veraan! She has a LOT of material, though most of it idk if I'll ever post. Maybe someday, idk. As warning, this fic has unmarked spoilers for pretty much all of ARR and also a little bit of Heavensward

Vesper Bay may have been dwarfed by the likes of Limsa Lominsa or Kugane, but it was an unrelentingly busy port, being the sole sea bound gate into Ul'dah, a city that thrived upon trade and commerce. It held a familiar cadence that Rhuna found comfortable. The sounds of gulls, merchants, sailors, clients, and all manner of workers bustling to and from ships. The smell of freshly-caught fish. The cool caress of sea spray against her skin. These were the sensations of home, or as much home as Rhuna had ever known.

So it was here she engaged in her morning routine. Run to Horizon and back. 100 push-ups, sit-ups, ab crunches, and pull-ups. Overkill perhaps given her astonishing metabolism, but she saw no need to slow what she had idly began calling her warmups, so called as they served to loosen her up for the day.

She was at the last step of that workout, the pull-ups, when an amused, feminine voice called to her. "Are you traveling somewhere, Ms. Veraan?"

Rhuna had her eyes closed until she was spoken to, now noticing the voice belonged to a...compatriot? Coworker? An ally, at the least. She did not know the silver-haired woman well, yet if she was a cohort of Thancred's, she supposed trust was in order. The two of them had talked little since Rhuna's joining the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. The whole thing felt 'big' to Rhuna, bigger than she was used to, especially after conquering a so-called god. She felt it best to trust the others with the particulars since it seemed a lot to consider, all this business of primals and politics. As such, she hadn't socialized overmuch, and didn't know much about this Y'shtola, other than she was beautiful and possessed of a sharp wit. Both of those, she had made immediately and abundantly clear.

"Ah, no. I'm just finishing up my exercises. I always do pullups last." She continues the exercise as they speak.

"On the bowsprit of a docked vessel? That seems...precarious."

"It's not so bad! It's only water under me, and I chalked up my hands nice and good before, besides."

"I see. And you have no concerns about the vessel setting sail?"

"Nah, the Orion always stays for at least half a day. Not sure why."

"My, spoken like a true local."

Rhuna giggled. "I just try to pay attention to people. I'm not special."

Y'shtola's smirk was audible. "More special than most who challenge Ifrit, I should imagine."

Rhuna, having now completed her hundred, swung herself off of the metal pole and onto the dock near where her relatively new acquaintance stood. She plopped herself on the ground in short order, swinging her legs to hang off the pier's marbled stones. Y'shtola took a seat beside her, hugging one leg to her chest, a surprisingly dainty gesture, Rhuna thought.

Rhuna looked out to the sea with a sigh considering Y'shtola's appraisal. "I guess so. I still don't think I'm used to that. All this stuff about the echo, Hydaelyn, primals, and all that. I feel like it wasn't so long ago that I was a new conscript of the guild doing odd jobs for the people of the sultanate."

"Saving the sultana's life among them, if Thancred is to be believed. By...punching voidsent?"

"Ha!" Rhuna flexes her biceps, a show easily given, with her wearing a 'top' that was scarce more than a binder. Her visitor's eyes widen subtly but not without notice. "I may not be good for a lot, but I'm strong. It's why I thought to join the pugilist's guild." She swears she see Y'shtola's tongue flicker as if licking her lips, but perhaps she imagined it.

"The incarnation of Cornelia herself, to be sure," Y'shtola added with a chuckle. Rhuna wasn't sure if she was being praised or made fun of, but the laugh was a pleasant sound, one that brought a smile to her own lips all the same. "Though I cannot help but ponder what motivates you."

Rhuna tilted her head. What a curious question. "I don't understand...I mean, to help people. That's why I signed up with the guild and why I joined up with you all."

"That is an ideal, not a motivation. Altruism is noble, yet good intentions are not a wellspring of power. Something compels a person, be it my desire to unravel mysteries and expose hidden truths or Thancred's...well, best to hear it from him, I suppose. My point is that a woman exists beneath the things we say to appease our conscience. What does she want?"

Rhuna met Y'shtola's eyes and found them intimidating. Piercing. "I...I don't know. To be better than I was...I guess..." Rhuna played with her hands as she attempted to meet her companion's withering gaze. She stared for a long time in relative silence before sighing. Rhuna felt like she had disappointed her somehow, though if she did, Y'shtola didn't seem keen upon elaborating how, as she answered with a curt "I see."

The two looked to the water for a time, only the sounds of the waves, the market, and the gulls between them. 

Wishing to both break the tension and not waste anyone's time, let alone a scholar that she felt beneath, Rhuna stood and offered her hand to Y'shtola. To her surprise, Y'shtola took it, with a smirk.

"How gallant."

Rhuna laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck. "I-I guess."

Y'shtola shook her head and gestured for Rhuna to follow her as she began walking away from the docks and towards the market. Rhuna dutifully followed. "Do be sure to eat. Your routine must rather taxing even for one as strong as you."

“Of course!” Rhuna beamed. “I’ve always had a big appetite! …truth be told, it’s where most of my money from the guild or scions tends to go.”

Y’shtola blinked. “Not towards equipment?”

Rhuna curled one hand into a fist and tapped it with the other. “I have the best right here!”

Y’shtola smirked. “Only a fool trusts her life to a weapon?”

“I don’t know about that. I don’t think I could, though. It feels good to know that I can be ready at any time. Plus if you want to disable someone instead of killing them, it’s better than a blade, yeah?”

“Interesting.”

“Huh? What is?”

“You. You’re rather strange for a pugilist. I’m beginning to understand why you piqued Thancred’s interest.”

Once again, she couldn’t tell if she was being praised or insulted. She rubbed the back of her neck. “I guess so. I’m just…me, you know? I don’t know how to be anyone else. Unfortunately.”

Y’shtola didn’t pry into that final word, only silently quirked an eyebrow. “It may surprise you how rare a trait that is. The Paragons are not the only ones that wear masks.”

Rhuna wanted to reply to that with something clever, something observant and intelligent. Yet there was nothing she could pull from the well of her experiences or thoughts that seemed appropriate, so in that stead, she nodded, hoping she didn’t appear too foolish.

“As for how bereft of them you are, I shall see soon for myself. I suspect we shall be working together soon.”

“You think so?”

“Indeed. I have heard disturbing whispers from Vylbrand, and with the Lord of the Inferno laid low, it would be prudent for us to investigate together, on account of Limsa Lominsa being an area of expertise of sorts for me and your own immunity to tempering and considerable strength.”

They now stood at the Waking Sands, and Y’shtola continued, “To that end, I shall peruse the Waking Sands’ tomes on the chance that something I previously overlooked may be of use. You are welcome to join me, if you like.”

Some part of Rhuna desperately wanted to accept. “I…I would, but I don’t think I’d be much of an asset. I can’t read, you see.”

Y’shtola tapped her cheek with her knuckle. “Did you not sign multiple documents, between joining the Adventurer’s Guild, the Immortal Flames, and our own organization?”

“I did. I don’t actually know the letters. I just know what the signature is for what my name sounds like. It seemed like the one thing I’d need to know, before I left Limsa.”

Y’shtola gave her another thorough once-over. Rhuna felt like a piece of meat being examined by a hungry tiger. “More’s the pity. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn possess more knowledge than that regarding primals and crystals. You should avail yourself of it. Ours is not intended to be a one-sided arrangement.”

That response was kinder than she had expected. Her crew would’ve given her no end of guff if they had been any better read than she. She had feared a tongue-lashing or a belittling, not an invitation. It warmed her. “I think…for now, I should focus on getting ready if we do have another job coming up. After that…after that, I think I will. It’d be nice to read menus.” Rhuna had to fight the urge to cringe at her own attempt to sound natural at the end of her thought.

Y’shtola seemed pleased, or at least amused, however. “I shall hold you to it.”

With that, she made her way inside the large doors of the unassuming dockside building, and Rhuna walked towards the Pissed Pieste with a spring in her step that she could only half-explain.


	2. Reclamation

Y’shtola had been right, of course. A new mission did come, and the two of them worked together to bring down the Lord of Crags. Though Rhuna found the trials foisted upon her by the Company of Heroes more grueling than Titan, even in hindsight. Still, Y’shtola had congratulated her on a job well done, and she allowed a sense of relief to wash over her. Relief and excitement, finding herself looking forward to learning as she had said she would. That relief, however, quickly died in her throat and transformed rapidly into despair and guilt upon her return to the Waking Sands.

She carried out her duties in burying her fellow scions, in returning Noraxia to Little Solace, in helping Father Iliud, in near total silence. She felt that the sins of her past had come crashing down on those around her. That she had somehow laid waste to something she cared about unwittingly. It was a difficult feeling to shake. Fortunately, an eccentric boy with strange clothes and a sense of purpose had appeared before her and not only knew the identity of this ‘Cid’, but renewed in her a sense of duty and gave her a goal. It was something she needed. Focus. And so she carried out her duties with aplomb, discrediting heretics, gaining allies, and even accompanying Cid as he regained his memories before besting yet another primal in battle. Though not without complication. Ultima Weapon presented a strange and terrifying obstacle for what little remained of the Scions and a regrouping was in order, particularly with the Enterprise reclaimed. 

Rhuna knew this. She did. Yet even the thought of entering the Waking Sands again after what had happened sent a chill down her spine. What she found on this visit defied every expectation she held. She dared not hope while she braced herself through the treacherous snows of Coerthas, but when faced with Yda in the flesh alive and well, she couldn’t restrain a tearful embrace, one which the highlander girl happily gave in turn.

Rhuna was overjoyed at Yda and Y’shtola’s survival, yet that relief and happiness brought into sharp relief how utterly exhausted she was. Sleep came easily to her as she napped on Yda’s shoulder, dreaming of visions of crystals and strange star showers. That was easily put aside when Y’shtola burst through the door. Yda had spoken of her of course, but actually seeing her, hearing her…that was powerful. More powerful than she had expected. Even though she brought news that signified a difficult task ahead, the miqo’te renewed hope in her. 

At Cid’s suggestion, the group would set out on the morrow for Coerthas, the lot of them all desperately needing rest and recuperation before the journey. With some reluctance, Y’shtola agreed. So it was that they found themselves each preparing in their own way. Alphinaud by reviewing information he had on the high houses, Cid by double checking the Enterprise, and Rhuna by eating the most she had in weeks. With hope and relief returned a rather voracious appetite.

It was late, and she expected no visitors in the Pieste beyond the odd sailor on a late-arriving ship, most of those only staying long enough for a quick pint before heading right back out. She could hear thunder crackling from beyond the doors, but paid it no mind. The cook and bartender busied herself with cleaning glasses and sorting things for the next day’s work. The barmaid was writing things down in some journal or other, maybe bookkeeping. 

It was hard _not_ to notice such things. Little details made the difference between life and death when one was an adventurer. Or a scion, she had to remind herself, with all the weight that carried. She took a large bite out of her eft steak to silence those dark feelings. Tomorrow was the start of a trek and yesterday brought one piece of troubling news after another. But tonight? Tonight she would revel in the small victories she had been granted.

Such were her thoughts when she heard a familiar voice call to her from the doors of the tavern.

“There you are.”

Rhuna turned from her food to see Y’shtola walking towards her, quickly taking a seat opposite her. “I had thought you might be whiling away the hours sparring with Yda, but she had scarcely seen you after your nap.”

Rhuna wiped her mouth hastily with a napkin as Y’shtola spoke. “Ah, no. I thought it best to give everyone room to mentally prepare in their own ways. That, and I had my own needs to attend to.”

“So I see,” Y’shtola nodded with some audible surprise at the three picked-clean plates between them, only a fourth and final one with two buttered rolls and a half-eaten eft steak still having food remaining.

The barmaid arrived not long after her examination and deftly picked the three up in one smooth motion, likely the result of years of practice. She placed a familiar hand on Rhuna’s shoulder. “Get you anything else, love?”

Rhuna gestured sheepishly at Y’shtola, who seemed terribly amused.

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry about that. Anything for you?”

“A rolanberry lassi will be all, thank you.”

“Right away.” She left with a quick step, and Y’shtola looked to Rhuna with a smirk.

“N’rhuna, it has scarcely been two bells since we spoke. You are a woman of impressive efficiency.”

Rhuna shook her head with breathy laughter. “No, no, no, it-it’s nothing like that. Folclind and I are just…acquainted.”

“Indeed? Am I intruding, then?”

“No! No, definitely not. In fact, it does me good to see you.”

“Oh?” Y’shtola took one of Rhuna’s rolls, apparently with little care whether her dining companion would object or not.

“Yeah. I…I thought you were dead. I thought you were ALL dead. I thought…that I had killed you.”

Y’shtola regarded her silently behind scrutinizing eyes.

“Seeing Yda again , I couldn’t help myself. I hugged her, I started crying, and when she told me you were hale and hearty and that Minfilia and the others might be too, it…” Rhuna shakes her head again. “A part of it doesn’t feel real. Like-ow!”

A small but piercing gale of wind cut at Rhuna’s finger, drawing the smallest amount of blood. Y’shtola finished downing half the roll before commenting, “I trust that will serve as sufficient proof of my reality.”

Rhuna beamed, to her surprise. “Yeah, that’ll do.”

Y’shtola couldn’t help but smile in turn. “So. Aside from sating your hunger and accepting reality, why do you turn to this place? A woman with your degree of aether could easily make a trip to the finest restaurants of Ul’dah and back with nary a bit of trouble.”

The barmaid sets down Y’shtola’s drink and she responds with a quiet _Thank you_ as she hands the hyur a sum of gil. Rhuna thinks on her answer. “It’s a good point. I’d like to say I have some big, smart reason but I just…like this place. It’s familiar, comfortable, and I like the people here.”

“People such as your… _acquaintance?_ ”

“Well, yeah. Folclind is more than just a dalliance. I don’t think either of us wants to get serious, but she’s good.”

“Tell me of her.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me of her,” Y’shtola repeated, pointedly refusing to clarify her intentions.

“Ah, well…she loves the sea spray and the smell of fish like I do. It’s how we first got talking actually, outside of one of her shifts. She doesn’t like talking about her family. She’s actually just as good a cook as Agnete, but she’s too humble.” Rhuna hears a happy bit of singsong in the distance.

“Agnete?”

“Oh, she’s the cook for the Pieste. She seems taciturn but she actually loves talking to people. She hates that people are intimidated by her a lot of the time. She’s a third-generation immigrant from Ala Mhigo but she thinks of Thanalan as her home.”

“Interesting. And are you and she…?”

“Oh, like, have we been together? No, we’re not really compatible like that. She’s just good to talk to. That and I like to talk to people. I try to know people where I can. I think it’s important.”

“For context?”

Rhuna was taken aback by her reply, as if Y’shtola had read her mind. “Y-yeah, something like that. People are always more than you think. Always. Even the simplest of folk have struggles and loves most people will never know. I think it’s important to try to see those things.”

“Do you feel this way about those that you fight?”

Rhuna nods solemnly. “Yeah. Them, especially. Them, more than anyone else. Even fighting Titan, I couldn’t get the words of the kobolds out of my head. Oath breaker. I know it would be the innocents of Vylbrand that would suffer were I to falter through indecision, but I wonder how many would never know the Kobolds’ pain, by either design or circumstance.”

“A great many, I should think.”

“That’s too sad to just…accept, isn’t it? The wronged become the bereaved and even still they have no voice. Who will mourn for those that lie in unmarked graves? Who will remember them? Who carries on the legacy of a fallen kobold? Or a fallen scion? Of an archer that was mean and cruel but tried to do _something_ good in her despair? Who speaks for them?! Who remembers their-“

She feels Y’shtola’s hand cover hers. Rhuna gasps. Only now does she realize she’s started crying, started breathing heavily. “Calm. It is only the two of us. You are safe. I am alive. Breathe.”

Rhuna takes some slow, deliberate breaths and Y’shtola tightens her grip slightly. “You have witnessed much that you never should have. I regret that you have suffered. Yet what you say, there is a wisdom in it. The scholars of Sharlayan often speak of the importance of remembering history as it truly is. The people that live in that history are the truest embodiment of that concept.” Y’shtola withdraws her hand as Rhuna’s breathing slows and she wipes her eyes.

“Everyone has these…little worlds. A lifetime of experiences, of feelings, of…things. Things that are theirs. And when they die, those worlds are gone in their entirety. I know I can never know all of them, but it’s worth trying where I can.”

“Even for those who commit great evils?”

“I think so. I…want to believe that someone terrible can become better.”

A long pause passed between them. Y’shtola considered Rhuna with a curious gaze, one that seemed to scrutinize her. “That requires one to _wish_ to become better. No amount of goodwill is capable of altering someone who fundamentally doesn’t wish to change.”

It was a heavy thought, the idea that some people are beyond redemption due to their own stubbornness. An uncomfortable thought. Still, she knew there was some degree of truth to it. She had seen that firsthand on the seas of Thavnair. “You’re right. And in times where words aren’t possible or won’t reach others, well…” She holds up her own hand with a sad smirk.

Y’shtola considers her again quietly, for a long time, letting the sound of the rain hitting the windows and Folclind quietly bickering with Agnete over schedules in the background fill the air. All the while her eyes locked with Rhuna’s, filling the monk with no small measure of anxiety, as if she was being judged. Yet if she felt any malice, the silver haired miqo’te did not express it. Instead, she shifted her legs beneath the table and folded her arms.

“This appears to be a matter you’ve given much thought.”

Rhuna nodded.

Y’shtola tapped her cheek with curled fingers, eyes still firmly upon her. Rhuna wondered what she puzzled over, hoping that her rambling thoughts hadn’t given the conjurer some manner of pause or reason to push her away. On the eve of planning a rescue would hardly be the best time for it. Had she seen Rhuna as responsible for the massacre in the Waking Sands after all? It didn’t seem likely, but this and other irrational concerns swirled about in her mind. All of them dissolved quickly when Y’shtola did finally speak again, preceded by a light chuckle.

“A philosopher monk. Truly an adventurer queer enough to be appropriate for our merry band.”

Rhuna blinked, her face the image of confusion. “I…I was worried I had said something bad, or strange.”

“Not at all,” Y’shtola clarified, taking another sip of her lassi. “I am heartened, in fact. Knowing you give such manners thought, that you are not a brute to be pointed in a direction that others wish violence to occur in. I feel more comfortable trusting such a person with rescuing those important to us.”

Rhuna frowned. “Didn’t me finishing all those tasks for the Company of Heroes prove that?”

“No. That proved that you are capable of following different kinds of directions with a frankly astonishing patience.”

“Is it patience if I wished to punch Whiskaet the entire time?”

“Ha. Given that you completed his errands, I would say so. Though I would be curious as to _why_ you opted for giving in to his every whim.”

“He wasn’t backing down! And I wasn’t about to beat a man just for being stubborn. It seemed the fastest way to save people. Certainly faster than getting on the Company’s bad side.”

Y’shtola nodded. “Reasonable. And after Titan’s demise, it is wiser to have built bridges than burned them.” She took another sip of her drink. “My point, however, was that you are a rare sort. That for as seriously as you take your training and all the fights it prepares you for, you consider your enemies and allies carefully, even the people that might never have a bearing upon your life directly. Right down to the cook at your favorite tavern.”

Rhuna shook her head. “I think you give me too much credit. Is it not normal to do so?”

“Perhaps it should be,” Y’shtola thought aloud, before finishing her drink. “…do you think yourself ready for tomorrow?”

“More than ready,” Rhuna told her, as she stretched. “Whatever it takes to rescue the other scions, I’ll do it.”

Y’shtola smiled at her. But unlike her amused smirks, it was warm, genuine. It made Rhuna’s cheeks feel warm. “I am of the same mind. In truth, it frustrates me to wait, even though I understand the necessity of all of us having a moment’s respite. Sitting idle suits me ill.”

“Ha. Then shall we find a cure for indolence together?”

Rhuna made the flippant suggestion, forgetting for the briefest of moments who she was talking to. Y’shtola was a woman of experience, knowledge, and overflowing with confidence. She leaned forward, resting her chin upon her hands. “Oh? And how would you propose we do that, miss monk?”

Rhuna could feel sweat starting to fall from her forehead. Was she being challenged? Threatened? …hunted? It was hard to tell with Y’shtola. Still, she thought better of trying to press her luck. “I-I thought perhaps we could try to do what we talked about before the Titan mission. Or at the very least, start. Learning my letters, I mean.”

Y’shtola blinked a few times in surprise, but then closed her eyes as she laughed. “A fine idea, N’rhuna.” She sounded pleased. Rhuna wondered if she had won her approval somehow. “Teaching shall provide me an avenue where I may feel productive in the hours before sleep. Come. We shall fetch some candles and start right away.”

Y’shtola stood and walked through the doors, heedless of the rain outside, or of Rhuna’s own pace. Rhuna stood after her, quickly grabbing the last roll from her plate as she ran out after her…friend? Yes, her friend. It felt good to say, even if only to herself.


	3. Learning

“-and it means that under this system, the actions that cause the least harm and the most happiness are most morally correct?”

“That’s right. Although the difficulty is determining what actions are least harmful, and the methods arriving at those actions are of less consequence than the means. The Black Wolf spoke to you in terms that suggest he would view himself as just even under that system.”

“Because he wanted to bring order to Eorzea regardless of how much death and chaos he caused along the way?

“Just so. His final result would be, to his eyes, justified, and that order would bring more stability and happiness to more people overall. So many an arrogant Garlean would believe, I should imagine.”

“I still don’t understand how he could have thought like that. Isn’t the ideal of a conqueror that brings peace self-defeating if that’s the ideology you spread? If everyone had that belief that their own sense of morality and guidance was the only correct one?”

“That is a very good point! And one that would serve as a bridge to Deontological theory, but I believe you have earned a break. We have been studying for nigh on three bells.”

Rhuna sighed in relief, dropping her quill to the table and loudly stretching her arms above her. “Ahhh…that’s good to hear. I feel like my brain hurts.”

“All the same, I must praise your endurance. Not many would jump to philosophy and history so short a time after fully grasping their letters.”

Rhuna laughed and rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s hard to stop. I started understanding how much I’d never been exposed to because of all the people I’d met before and during Operation Archon. After, too. I realized I didn’t really understand anything about the beast tribes, primal summoning, or even some things about the places I call home. I want to learn more about the world outside of my own experiences.”

A sagely smile spread across Papalymo’s face. “A scholar would be proud to hear it from any friend of theirs, and it is my joy to help broaden those horizons. However, rest is as important for the mind as for the body. Normally I’d suggest you and Yda spar, but-actually knowing her, I’m not sure the rain would stop her.” He sighs in exasperation. As if on cue, Yda burst into the Rising Stones sopping wet, trudging in water and the stray droplet of mud as she jogged towards Rhuna.

“Ah, there you are! I was wondering if your lessons were finished! Do you want to spar together for a bit? I don’t get to fight other monks often, and-“

“Yda!”

The highlander girl completely paused her motions and looked towards her lalafellin friend. Rhuna suspected she was blinking.

“Whether you do so at your own risk is your business, but do not insist the other scions catch pneumonia with you!”

Yda pouted, placing her hands on her hips. “It’d only be for a bit! Besides, it builds endurance!”

Papalymo shrugged, apparently at a loss for words.

Rhuna offered her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, Yda. I really, really don’t like the cold. Any other time, I’d be happy to.”

“Aw, that’s right. Man, you must’ve _hated_ all that adventuring in Coerthas!”

Rhuna laughs in agreement, and Yda soon joins her.

“Far be it from me to interrupt your revelry, but did you _also_ track this mess through Seventh Heaven?”

Yda laughs awkwardly, scratching her cheek. She hadn’t thought of it at all, clearly. Papalymo sighs again. “At the very least, go fetch a change of dry clothes in Dawn’s Respite.”

“Can do!” Yda cheerfully replies, starting to make the trip.

“ _Without your sabatons!_ ” he is quick to correct. She stops in her tracks and with an amused _aha_ , slowly slips her legs out of them. Rhuna cannot help but appreciate the firm, toned, graceful shape of Yda’s legs, from her calves to her thighs, in all-

“-una?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you would be willing to help me clean while Yda tends to that, Rhuna.”

“Oh, y-yeah! Of course.”

Torn from her gawking, Rhuna fetches dry cloths and cleaner from the rack of supplies near the far end of the main hall, and Yda disappears through one of the building’s doors for a fresh change of clothes while Papalymo used a low-intensity fire magic to evaporate the water that lay upon the stone floors. Between the two of them, it is a matter of minutes before the room is back to normal, and Rhuna and Papalymo resume their prior positions. Papalymo, for his part, looks more exhausted than the task would suggest.

“That girl…I have no idea what goes through her head.”

Rhuna smirks. “You say that, but you both seem to have quite a rapport.”

“I suppose there is something, there. She is so troublesome, though. Always one to act before thinking. Or rather, she is one to act, and leave the thinking to me.”

“You _are_ good at it,” Rhuna admits.

Papalymo seemed happy at the praise. “It’s kind of you to say. It feels nice to hear from someone that doesn’t rely on me for it.”

“Is that true? I feel like all I do with you and Y’shtola is ask you to enlighten me.”

“Nonsense,” the lalafell casually dismisses, “You are hardly an ignorant pillock waiting to be spoken at. In truth, talks with you are engaging. You remind me of many a question I myself had in my younger years.”

“Do you think Y’shtola feels that way?

“More than I do, I should imagine. Her disappointment when she missed you nary a day after our previous lesson, her irritation was palpable—and audible, besides. She has never been particularly subtle in her thoughts, nor interested in being so.”

With a finger through her bangs and a warm smile, Rhuna replied, “I’m glad I’m not bothering her.”

Papalymo gave her a long look and a shake of his head. “Not unless a sylph returned in her stead after our treating with Ramuh. In fact, I believe I should turn you over to her.”

Rhuna blinked. “You think so?”

Papalymo nodded. “Indeed. While the disturbances in Ul’dah are of grave concern, the Crystal Braves should grant some measure of reprieve, and I imagine our wayward conjurer should arrive again within a manner of days.”

“Is it really okay for me to sit idle until then?”

“More than okay, to hear Minfilia tell it. She said that you were assisting with Alisaie’s investigation below Castrum Occidens as well as an expedition for the Sons of St. Coinach? _As well as_ delivering letters on occasion, if our fluffy forest friends are to be believed.”

Rhuna chuckled awkwardly, looking about the room. “I…like to stay busy, I guess.”

“Well, curb that tendency for a time. Nothing pressing is demanding your attention from what I understand. Besides, Y’shtola is eager to continue appraising your progress, it would seem.”

“And she really likes you!” Yda blurts out, giving both Rhuna and Papalymo a terrible start. She is fully dressed now, in an outfit uncannily similar to her usual one. Papalymo shrugs at her and views her with something akin to disgust.

“ _Yda._ ”

“What? She does! She never gets huffy when she can’t talk to _me_ for a week, and she smiles so much when you around, Rhuna! And-“

“Papalymo jumps from his seat to the floor. “Yda!”

“Yes?”

“I just remembered a matter of great import awaiting us in Gridania. Please follow me.”

“Oh, alright. See you later, Rhuna! Let’s spar next time!”

The highlander runs after her eternally exasperated companion, though Rhuna thinks he enjoys her keeping him on his toes. She giggles with a hand over her mouth as she waves goodbye to Yda, though that turns into a long lingering smile as she lingers on the blonde woman’s words.

Could she mean…? No. Of course not. Still, it made her happy.


	4. Impatience

Faith had always been one of Rhuna’s better qualities, Y’shtola thought. Her faith in Halone fueled her desire for self-betterment, and her faith in the scions had become something powerful and mutual. Yet her complete faith in Moenbryda’s plan, her heedless dash into the abyss vexed the Sharlayan scholar, as she waited for the scions’ champion to return. She would busy herself with work and put Rhuna’s safety out of her mind. The recently-erudite monk had proven herself to have an uncanny knack for surviving impossible odds, but this wasn’t a matter of martial prowess or patience. Moenbryda’s experiment was a matter of life and death in binary. Either she would be delivered without incident to the heretics’ lair, or she would die in no small amount of agony. Even Alphinaud had deigned to comment on the unlikeliness of her survival. More than anything, she found herself troubled by her own distraction. 

There existed no solution more practical than this. To face Snowcloak blindly would be beyond fruitless, and none save Rhuna found themselves capable of resisting the corruption of a primal. She knew this. She knew this. You know this, she silently chided herself. Though then there remained the matter of Saint Shiva herself. A figure of history, true, but now also of myth to the outcasts that would look to her for guidance and salvation. Furthermore, the fury of Lady Iceheart seemed far more directed than most of the summonings thus far. Rather than the supremacy of their chosen deity, the heretics had an agenda with targets that Rhuna now interfered with. 

She shook her head and forced her eyes to focus on the book’s pages in front of her, bringing herself to the reality of the Rising Stones. F’lhaminn busied herself cleaning glasses, and Hoary Boulder took to making idle conversation with V’mah Tia in the distance, the Stones otherwise unoccupied. It made for a good study environment. Enough noise to feel safe and unremarkable but not enough to distract. It had often been difficult to find that balance. She focused upon it and began reading again. It was a text on aetherology that sprang to mind after Moenbryda’s talks on her theories and white auracite. It was a dry read, even by the standards of old Sharlayan, yet it held much wisdom. Not the least of which were theories regarding overloading a living being’s essence with concentrated aether. Such an abundance theorized to be impossible to find in nature, at least in a form that could be wielded by mortal hands, could be found in the soul of an individual, it posited. A dangerous notion, and not practical for their purposes, but worth remembering all the same.

The aether of the soul remained a realm of study much resigned to theory despite the certainty of many a scholar that it indeed held tangible aspects. For what were the undead, if not bodies without souls? The soul must be crucial to the essence of any spoken, they argued as did this very tome, for the aether to form a coherent organism. The soul. Truly an interesting thing. If only one could see the aether of the world as freely as one sees colors or hears sounds…oh, the mysteries it could unravel. She pondered in that moment what the soul of the warrior of light might look like. Would it be brilliant in its beauty, its strength? Or would it be humble and unassuming, as Rhuna had always been in her daily life? Her life, which Y’shtola desperately hoped she retained.

Y’shtola buried her face in her hands. She could only imagine her master’s tongue-lashing if the old crone could see her now, so fraught with concern. Why? Why did she find it so damnably difficult to empty her mind for the space of some few bells? This had hardly been the first time Rhuna leapt into the jaws of death for the sake of others. Had it not been a miracle she returned safely from Operation Archon, let alone every trial and travail after? So why? Why now? Why did her heart thunder in her chest like a war drum, heedless of her every attempt to silence it? Why did she find her focus so out of reach, so drowned out by concern and affection, akin to a lovesick schoolgi-…ah. 

Ah.

Her heart beat faster.

She took a deep breath. She was not wont to run from her problems, internally or otherwise. She sighed. The most difficult mind to know is one’s own, she wryly mused. She thought of Rhuna’s earnest desire to learn, her gentleness around those she cared for, the gifts that she presented Y’shtola with always chosen with care and attention. They warmed her, these thoughts. Though they soon turned dark. The thought that she had realized the depth of her affections only now, when Rhuna may be alive or dead filled her with a nameless dread. A chill overtook her. She put the book to rest on the table before her and gave up any attempt at distraction. She knew it to be a waste of her time. Instead, she marshalled all the self-control she had and closed her eyes. She would wait. She would meditate. And she would await her return. She would do what Rhuna had always done, and give Rhuna what she had always shown Y’shtola herself.

Faith.

********************************************************************

Only mildly affronted by Moenbryda’s multiple inquiries implying a head injury on her part, Rhuna returned to the Rising Stones with relief in her heart, amidst confusion and curiosity regarding her new foe. Her allies were safe for the moment, and she took solace in that victory. She entered the Rising Stones to find a miqo’te with vibrant green eyes staring at her the moment she opened the doors. Before she could so much as greet her, the conjurer took her by the wrist and began pulling her into the building, leading her to a secluded corner of the hall near shelves of equipment. She pushed Rhuna against a wall. Rhuna had wordlessly followed along, but her confusion was writ plain upon her face. Y’shtola seemed amused.

“Welcome back, warrior of light.”

“H-hi!” Rhuna answered with her characteristic earnestness. Gods, Y’shtola couldn’t help but smile. She ran one set of fingers along Rhuna’s cheek.

“You have a terrible habit of making me wait. Do you know that?”

Rhuna blinked, clearly confused. “I-I’m sorry. Did I forget something?” Rhuna asked, her voice pitched upward, confused but onboard with current events in equal measure.

Y’shtola laughed. “No. But I am tired of waiting. N’rhuna Veraan, you shall answer me. Do you want me?”

Rhuna’s eyes widened. “I-“

“Answer me truthfully. I care not for feigned humility or misguided concern for my comfort. Do you want me?”

Rhuna took a deep breath, meeting Y’shtola’s piercing gaze. Her nostrils flared and something came into her eyes. An intensity that Y’shtola had never before known. She liked it.

“Yes. I do. I-mmph…”

Y’shtola had heard all she needed to. The kiss as long, and quickly reciprocated by a happily overwhelmed Rhuna. Neither could say how long they stood in that nook, mingling lips and tongues before breaking for air, only to continue. When they did pull from each other, panting and glad, Rhuna ran her hands lovingly through Y’shtola’s hair. 

“Oh, Y’sh-“

“Shtola,” her new lover corrected. Rhuna smiled at her warmly.

“Shtola…I truly cannot put to words ho happy you have made me.”

“I believe I have a notion,” she replies with some measure of her typical sass, yet…softer.

“Still, I just want to know for certain. Shtola…I love you. I adore your mind, your wit, your beauty, your thirst for knowledge…everything. And I want that everything. Not only more of this. Do you…do you want the same?”

Y’shtola shook her head with a chuckle. “Silly girl. Of course I do. Do you truly think I would tolerate anything less from the woman to whom I offer my love?”

Rhuna laughed happily and pulled Y’shtola into a tight hug, which she returned. It was warm. So warm. So warm, so safe, so-

The sound of Minfilia calling after Rhuna elicited an irritated sigh from Y’shtola and Rhuna apologetically looked to her seeming now-girlfriend. “we really should see to her. There is a great deal to discuss.”

Y’shtola took a deep breath as she disentangled. Rhuna was right, of course, and no amount of joyous kissing would erase her desire to learn and to unravel the problems before them. She recovered quickly and looked forward to the meeting despite herself. “Very well, yet Rhuna?”

“Hm?”

“This shall be continued when next you earn a moment of respite. Am I understood?”

“You are!” Rhuna replied, with a degree of joy that Y’shtola had never heard, even on her happiest, brightest days. It fair made her want to embrace her fellow seeker right then and there. But she restrained herself. There was much to discuss, and with their feelings in the open, she was that much more certain that Rhuna would keep coming back.

Her Rhuna. That felt good to say, even to herself.


	5. Dirge

Rhuna sat in the Quicksand, mulling over a half-empty drink. She couldn’t remember the name of it. Something from the far east to hear Momodi tell it, good for calming the nerves. Rhuna had never been one to turn away free drinks, especially from a friend. Though her mind at the moment couldn’t be further from libations. She saw the body of a young Ala Mhigan boy in her mind, and feared terribly that a kindhearted elezen woman may be joining him somewhere at this moment. The certain corruption of crystal braves with no idea of their plans was beyond unnerving. She hated the waiting. She hated being in a den of vipers with no recourse but to play the game. It filled her with unease. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fate of young Wilred, or of all those she cared for. She could kill primals. She could handle open armed assailants. Traitors and villains that hide themselves among heroes proved to be a more disturbing threat, one that she found herself far less equipped to handle. She had a mind to interrogate Ilberd directly, but Alphinaud advised discretion. And so she sat here, mulling her-this is pretty soothing, actually, whatever it is.

Rhuna yelped as she felt a hand on her shoulder, and leapt onto the bar, knocking over her stool in the process. She faced the person that found her, fists raised, to find…Y’shtola. Her beloved stared at her with no small amount of confusion and concern, though sadness filled her voice.

“Never did I think I would see you caught so unaware. You truly must be unnerved.”

Rhuna calmed herself, feeling sheepish for the overreaction. Y’shtola’s eyes were far from the only ones on her, though most patrons went back to their drinks and idle conversation when Rhuna hopped off the bar and righted her seat.

“Yeah…sorry. There’s just a lot weighing on my mind. I’m not used to these kinds of problems.”

Y’shtola sat on the seat next to her. “I imagine not. Espionage, matters cloak and dagger and subterfuge must be things of prose to you.”

Rhuna nodded. “I’m afraid. I don’t know where Alianne is. She’s missing, and…”

Y’shtola listened with fingers held at her chin. 

Rhuna sighed. “I’d like to solve this, to punch whoever is responsible for so much death and misery.”

“And yet, we do not know where best to direct that energy,” Y’shtola replied calmly. “For a mercy, I do not imagine our foes so brazen as to kill openly, not with so many eyes upon all of Ul’dah. Wilred was a tragedy but the face of our enemy shall be known to us soon.” 

Rhuna nodded. “I hope so.”

Y’shtola gestured for Rhuna to follow her, and Rhuna left with her after leaving some gil on the counter as tip for the drink she had mostly drank without spilling. Y’shtola led her through Steps of Thal until they came to a fountain. Y’shtola took seat at its edge and Rhuna joined her.

“There is no sea in Ul’dah, yet mayhap this might help ease the nerves.”

Rhuna laughed. It as a kind gesture, and as silly as it might have been, it did. Though maybe it was just her company. Still, it did help calm her down, at least a little. “Thank you, love.”

Y’shtola smiled and brushed the bangs from Rhuna’s eyes. “We’ll pay homage to Wilred after the banquet. I’m sure he would be honored to have a fully-fledged monk speak for him.”

The idea brought Rhuna some peace. “I’d like that.”

“And then, we shall retire to bed. Together. Whatever happens this night, it shan’t end us, nor the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”

Rhuna smiled. Her first in several days. “I’m holding you to that.”

Y’shtola smirked. “I am a woman of my word. Now, come. I believe you are very rudely keeping a sultana waiting.”

Rhuna blinked. “Aren’t you the one that pulled me aside?”

Y’shtola shrugged and gave her a wink, patting her on the head before she sauntered away.

It would be the last time she saw that casual strut for many moons.


	6. Chapter 6

Southern Thanalan was a land of extremes. One would be hard-pressed to find anywhere in all of Eorzea more oppressively, blisteringly hot during the day, yet at night a surprising degree of chill took over uncovered sands. So it was that Rhuna walked cloaked over the dry terrain until she found her destination. A humble headstone not far from Little Ala Mhigo, bearing the name of a youth-turned-friend. It was a small memorial, but she smiled imagining being scolded had anything extravagant put up for his grave with so much left undone for Ala Mhigo itself.

She lowered herself to one knee and placed a charm at his grave. An emblem of Rhalgr, carved of fine ash wood lovingly by Rhuna herself. A hobby she had begun in her stay in the care of Haurchefant, and found she enjoyed it enough to continue well after leaving the eternally snowy land. She closed her eyes and raised a fist to her breast.

“Hello again. I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. A lot happened. I hope you like your present. I’m not that good at making things yet, but I remembered how important to you your religion is. I’m kind of like that too. I mean it’s Halone, not Rhalgr, but I like to think I understand on some level, at least. I know we weren’t close, but…I hope your soul is at peace, wherever you are. Somewhere in the lifestream. I know Gundobald is proud of you. So am I. Goodbye, and may the Destroyer always walk with you.”

She stands, and a gentle hand meets the side of her head as she does. Involuntarily, Rhuna begins to purr. With a laugh, Y’shtola withdraws her hand. “How do you feel?”

Rhuna takes a long, deep breath. “Better. I know it’s probably just self-satisfaction, but it’s something he deserves.”

Y’shtola pets her. “we all find our peace somehow.”

Rhuna takes one last long look at the grave before beginning the walk back to her chocobo, a red bird large enough for her love to ride sidesaddle comfortably behind her. Y’shtola follows at her side.

Rhuna can’t help but steal glances at Shtola as they walk. The moonlight shines with an unreal beauty off of her dulled silver eyes.

As if reading her mind, the scholar asks with some amusement, “Are you still not used to them?”

Rhuna clears her throat. “N-no, I mean-! Err, not entirely, but you’re still beautiful. You’re still my Shtola.”

Y’shtola closed her eyes contentedly. “That is reassuring.”

Rhuna taps her cheek. “It does kinda make me wonder, though. Do you ever think about what people’s aether might have looked like? People that we can’t see anymore?”

“No,” Y’shtola replies rather curtly. It almost makes Rhuna laugh, the abruptness, but she stops herself. After it becomes clear that Rhuna is too curious for why, she shrugs. “Life is transient. Everything is in motion, and no amount of wishing for the past will make it so.”

Rhuna contemplates her words carefully with a silent nod. Y’shtola seems to be aware of the gesture despite her condition. “Thank you for coming here with me, Shtola. It really does mean a great deal.”

Y’shtola smirks. “I am a woman of my word, as you may recall.”

Rhuna giggled.

At last at the patiently-waiting bird, Rhuna helps Y’shtola onto her seat on the back before hopping into the front saddle and readying for the ride to her home. “The past may be of no interest to me, but I can tell you of one source of aether that is of great interest to me.”

“Haha, oh?”

_It is the softest, gentlest blue._


End file.
